I'm not a good actor.

Recently something was brought to my attention that rattled me while at the same time providing an ironic sense of clarity.  After my split from Adam, the most insulting and hurtful thing I had heard said about our relationship was (in regards to our wedding), "They looked so in love.  They must be really good actors."  My first reaction to this statement was Wow, that's really low, followed by a flash of mental fuck-you's.  This comes up now because recently two people in my family with whom I'm close and know me well said something similar, with almost no tone of ignorance.  I quickly, but nicely, said "We weren't acting.  We had a lot of love.  I fought harder for that relationship than I've ever fought for anything in my life."  I loved him so much, and I fought tooth and nail to make it to our wedding day.  I made excuses, I lied to everyone around me, I withheld information that would damage his character.  I went to counseling up until the last minute.  In more than one counseling session I was bombarded with the notion that we weren't going to make it because there was no way we could.  Too much damage had been done for us to move forward in a permanent way and blossom into a happy and healthy marriage.  There's something incredibly poignant about standing on an elevated train platform in the middle of February during one of the worst winter storms I experienced during my time in Chicago, tears rolling down my face and standing rigid in the unbearable wind, and feeling so devastatingly lost and angry that the combination of wind and snow stinging my face felt good.  I remember thinking at that moment, this is one of the lowest points in my life.  I also remember thinking there's no way we can stay together.  Four months out from my wedding and I'm standing in the cold grappling with the knowledge that we will not make it.  I gritted my teeth on that platform and swallowed the nagging possibility of calling it quits.  I'm not a quitter and I wasn't ready to give up.

I'll never work that hard again simply because I can't.  If I could work that hard and still manage to fail then there's no point in working that hard.  I still have the ability to love and to give myself to people in friendship and companionship, but I'll never again feel the instinct to go down fighting.  I gave him my self and I trusted his judgement and opinions.  I loved him with everything I had.  I loved him more than I loved myself.  If there was one thing present at that wedding, it was love.  Unconditional, fighting, sacrificial love, I believe on both of our parts.  I'm not a good actress.  I could never physically get up in front of a room of people and put on that kind of show.  I can't speak for him.

The fact that people who know me well, who aren't prone to ignorant comments made me realize that the previously uttered statement hadn't been heartless babble, but rather that's the only way people could fill in the gaps and make sense of what happened.  I'm putting it out there now for anyone who's will to read my ramblings:

I was not acting.  I loved him very much.  Eventually I snapped and obliterated our relationship.  I felt a neurological shift and I destroyed our future together.  I caused pain and poisoned friendships.

I feel no remorse for him.  Toward others I hurt in the process, I regret the confusion and pain I caused.  Toward him, I feel nothing.  He lied.  He continues to lie.  He is a fraud and a liar, and I feel nothing for him.

I'm not a good actor.  That's all I really wanted to say.